The Healer: First Touch (12 page)

"Later that day, we were visited by a strange man. Even Opa was concerned about this stranger. He was mysterious and scary what with the tattoo down his arm. We talked to him, but Opa kept his loaded shotgun close by." Oma smiled affectionately at the memory of Opa trying to protect his family. "The stranger explained everything to us."

"Her Protector," I breathed.

"Yes, her Protector. He told us her purpose was to help as many people as she could, but to do it quietly so as to not bring attention to her. Oma's face darkened and her eyes filled with concern and fear. "And that's when the Protector told us about the Fury." Oma shuddered involuntarily at the last word.

"The Fury," I whispered.

"Yes, he told us the Fury was pure evil, whose only purpose was to find our daughter, your mother, and others like her in order to destroy them," Oma choked on the last part. Her eyes filled with tears. "He told us that it can change its shape from a snake, to a dog, to a mist of smoke. Opa and I were so afraid. We didn't want to lose your mother, our baby." A single tear rolled down her cheek. Impatiently wiping it away, Oma continued. "But, her Protector said he would keep her safe. That was his duty. At first Opa and I were skeptical, but he did just that...for a time."

I moved to take both Oma's hands in my own, clasping them tightly. "Why didn't you ever tell me this, Oma?" My voice cracked with hurt and betrayal.

Oma looked down at our hands, sheepishly. "I was selfish in a way, I guess. I thought if I just pretended you were normal, you would be. I thought if we didn't talk about it, you might not develop the gift fully, the Fury wouldn't look for you, and your Protector would just leave us."

"My Protector?" I questioned, "Have you seen Varick before today?" It was getting easier for me to say his name.

Oma looked at me. "Yes."

"When?" I pressed quietly.

"The day your parents were killed," Oma said. "That's when we were told that you had the same gifts as your mother."

I assaulted Oma with questions. "The day of the accident? How? Why?"

"Varick saved you from the accident. He was there, Jacey, protecting you. That's how you survived."

"Oh," I said. Well, that explained how I survived that horrific accident which claimed the life of my parents. Varick had been there. He had protected me. But why hadn't he saved my parents? Hot tears of frustration stung my eyes.

"Varick brought you to us right after the accident," Oma whispered. "You were such a little baby. You should have been killed too, but you didn't have a scratch on you."

"Why didn't he save my parents?" How different would my life had been if I had known them. The unfairness of it all angered me.

"He saved you, Jacey. You were his responsibility, not them. Your mother had her own Protector."

Staring out the window, I saw a hummingbird sipping nectar from the red feeder just outside the window, its wings beating so rapidly, I couldn't even see them moving. "Why didn't her Protector save her?" It was more of a statement then a question.

Oma let go of my hands. As she did, I turned to face her. She lifted her mug and sipped her coffee. I sensed there was more that she wasn't sharing.

"There's more, isn't there?" I probed, staring at Oma with disbelieving eyes.

Oma took another sip, her eyes avoiding mine.

"Oma, please," I pleaded. "I need to know everything. Please."

Oma finally looked at me. "Yes, there's more," she said slowly. I waited for her to continue, raising my eyebrows expectantly.

"Your mother's Protector was with her at the accident," she said hesitantly.

"Yes," I encouraged.
Why was this so difficult for Oma to tell me?

"Her Protector....was your father."

"What?"
My father? How?

"Yes, Jacey," Oma continued. "Your father was her Protector. Your father was the strange man who visited us to tell us about your mother's gifts. Your father was the person whose duty it was to protect her."

Blinking, I tried to make sense of what Oma was saying. I was gripping my coffee mug so tightly my knuckles were turning white.

"Jacey, your mother was a Healer and your father was her Protector. Instantly, they were drawn together, a strong bond between them. Their attraction to each other was so powerful, so encompassing that it frightened me and Opa. They grew closer and closer to each other and fell in love. They adored each other and shared a love that you only read about in books. Opa and I weren't surprised when they told us you were coming," Oma smiled gently, but it didn't reach her eyes. They were still filled with grief. She reached over to rub the top of my hand again. Her hand felt warm. "They were so excited that you were coming. They both loved you so. Your father was overly protective, never letting your mother leave his side. He cared for you and her, and your birth was the happiest day of all our lives."

A tear fell from my eye, but I barely noticed. My breath caught in my throat.

"Oh, honey," Oma said softly, gently reaching over to wipe the tear away. "You are the ultimate gift of their love."

I was still confused. This couldn't be true. I had seen pictures of my father. He didn't have a tattoo on his arm like Varick's. Varick had called that tattoo the mark of a Protector. All Protectors had them.

"But Oma, that can't be," I argued, my voice cracking with emotion. "It just can't. I've seen pictures of my father...he didn't have a tattoo."

Oma picked up her mug again. "Yes, in all the pictures I have of him, he either has on a long sleeve shirt or no tattoo. That is true." Oma took another sip. "As your mother and father fell deeper in love, his tattoo began to fade. None of us knew why that happened. Your parents were so in love, they didn't seem to notice. His tattoo continued to fade until all that was left was a small part at the base of his wrist."

I closed my eyes, trying to breath slow and even, processing what Oma was saying. That explained why I never saw a tattoo in photographs of my father. And she didn't have to tell me what the tattoo at the base of my father's wrist was. I already knew. It was the name of his Healer. My mother's name.

Opening my eyes slowly, I looked at Oma. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly. I knew she was trying to be reassuring, but it wasn't working.

"There's more, Jacey," Oma sighed.

"More?" A bewildered half laugh escaped.

Oma closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead with her hand. "Yes, more."

"Okay..." I responded hesitantly.

"I have seen the Fury. It is a most frightening creature. Void of all light, all good. Your father protected your mother from it but it did have contact with our family, multiple times."

Oma continued. "After you were born, your father took careful steps to ensure the safety of you and your mother. We were all worried, so worried that the Fury would find out about you and go after you in an attempt to get to your mother. At that point, we didn't know that you had your own Protector." I stared at Oma, shaking my head back and forth slightly. This was all just so unbelievable. Oma grabbed a hold of both of my arms, turning me to face her. "Jacey, you have to listen to me about this. Everything else you can either believe or not. But this, what I'm about to tell you...you must believe." Oma's voice was urgent, pleading with me. Her eyes were wild with fear. She gripped my arms tightly, her bony fingers biting into my flesh.

"Oma, you're hurting me," I whimpered. Her eyes scared me. But Oma didn't release.

"Jacey, the Fury will come after you. The Fury wants you dead and will stop at nothing to make that so. You must listen to Varick, stay close to him. He will protect you. I can't bear to lose you, Jacey."

"Yes, Oma," I whispered in response.

"The Fury killed your mother and your father. The Fury caused the accident that claimed their lives. You were meant to die too, honey. The Fury knew about you and wanted you dead too. It didn't expect you to survive. It didn't expect your Protector."

"Yes," I whispered again.

"You have to believe me, Jacey. Please stay close to Varick. Listen to him. Keep yourself safe."

"Yes, Oma. I will."

Oma pulled me close, clutching me tightly. I returned her hug. My shoulders shook with my sobs. Everything Oma had told me was overwhelming. I succumbed to the heavy emotions of the day. I shook with hysterical sobs of pain, grief, fear, and loss. Jamie's injury, the discovery of my gift, Varick's revelations, and Oma's admissions all came out in the tears dampening my cheeks and Oma's dress.

"There, there child," Oma soothed, gently rubbing my back. "You let those tears flow."

"Oma," I sobbed, hugging her tightly. "Why? Why me?"

Oma chuckled softly, still rubbing my back. "Because you were chosen child. You are special."

"But I'm not," I wailed. "I'm nothing special. Just ordinary."

Oma carefully pushed me away to look at me. Rubbing my arms, Oma snorted. "Jacey, you are anything but ordinary. You are my granddaughter. And I love you very much." This time, Oma's smile filled her eyes with love and adoration.

I sniffed and wiped the tears from my face. "Oma...Opa wouldn't approve of all this crying." I said attempting to lighten the moment.

Oma smiled wider. "Opa didn't know everything. Sometimes you just need a good cry." She patted my arm again.

"Yeah, I guess," I smiled.

The telephone rang, breaking the silence between us and making us both jump.

"The phone," Oma said unnecessarily. And she stood up and walked into the kitchen to answer the call.

"Hello?" Her voice was strong, no signs of the emotion we had shared.

"Yes...Oh...hmm. Oh no...I'm so, so sorry...yes, I'm coming right over." I watched Oma, listening to her side of the telephone conversation. "Okay...bye bye."

Oma slowly hung up the telephone. Something was wrong.

"What is it, Oma? What's wrong?"

"It's Cathy...Something's happened. She needs me right away." Oma didn't take her eyes off the phone.

"Cathy? What's wrong?"

"I don't know yet," Oma answered, turning to face me. "Jacey, I can't go to church right now. I need to go to Cathy." She grabbed her purse off the counter and hiked it over her shoulder.

"Yeah...okay." I was relieved we wouldn't be going. My mind was frankly too exhausted. But I was worried about Cathy.

Oma started for the back door which led to the garage. She took the keys to her Buick off the peg by the door and turned to me, her other hand on the doorknob. "Jacey, I'm sorry I didn't tell you all of this before today....I just..."

"Don't Oma. You don't need to be sorry for anything." I knew she was just trying to protect me. My words had a harsh edge to them, much harsher than I had intended. "I understand," I added more gently. "Thank you for telling me now."

I stood and walked over to Oma. We embraced quickly. When we separated, Oma gently ran her bony hand along my cheek. "I love you so much. You are my heart."

I bit my lip, desperately trying to stop the flow of tears yet again.

"I love you too, Oma," I whispered back.

Oma smiled lightly, opened the door, and quietly closed it behind her. I stood staring at the closed door. My mind was whirling. So much had happened today. I stood unmoving.

"Jacey, you know everything now." Varick's voice broke through the jumbled mass of information tumbling around in my head.

Shaking my head, I looked up at the ceiling. "Everything? Yes, I know everything now!" I yelled to the ceiling, hoping wherever Varick was he could hear me. "But, I don't want to know all of this." Angrily, I ran through the kitchen to the stairs and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Once in my room, I slammed my door as hard as I could. I heard one of the pictures hanging in the hallway clatter to the floor. I flung myself on my bed, face down and covered my head with my pillow. Then I screamed as loud as I could.

I didn't see Varick the rest of the day. It was probably better that I didn't. I was still upset that he hadn't told me the entire story about my parents and I didn't fully understand why he hadn't saved my parents from the Fury when I was a baby. I knew it was unfair to blame him for their demise, but I was upset and angry. I would have taken my emotions out on him.

It had been a long day. So much had changed. Was it really possible that I was the same girl as a week ago? I looked the same. I had the same long brown hair, same freckles, round face, and dimpled chin. Emotionally, I had been changed forever. I was a Healer, a girl with an extraordinary, unexplainable gift to heal with my bare hands. Apparently, I was chosen to share my gift with as many people as I could without attracting the attention of the Fury, an evil creature bent on destroying me. There were others like me in the world, although there were few because of the Fury. And my mother was a Healer, like me, and my father, her Protector. I was mentally exhausted.

Oma didn't come home on Sunday. She stayed with Cathy. Oma had called to let me know that Cathy was sick and the doctors were unsure why she was so suddenly ill. Cathy was being kept at Memorial Hospital in Oakton, the city just south of us, for testing and observation. I was very worried about Oma. She sounded so tired on the telephone. I was reminded yet again of how old and frail she seemed early this morning when I talked with her. But Oma was very stubborn and always thought of others before herself. So Oma was staying with Cathy for a few days since Cathy's closest relatives lived hours away in South Carolina.

I was also worried about myself. I was afraid of the Fury. If it was anything like my dreams, and from Oma's description apparently it was, I had good reason to be frightened. I knew I would be alone for the next few days while Oma was caring for Cathy. Normally, I enjoyed being alone. However, with an evil, shape-shifting monster out to get me, not so much. Although I didn't see Varick or hear him in my thoughts, I knew he was around, watching me. I could feel it. That was reassuring and quenched my fears to some degree.

Sunday evening passed with little excitement or activity, as did the next few days at school. I went through the motions, going to school, sitting in class, pretending to listen to lectures. As I sat in class listening to another lesson about the Bill of Rights, I was struck by the monotony and normalcy of everything. Everything except me. As Ms. Schuster lectured about freedom of the press, Emma leaned over to me from her desk next to me.